


You're Not Alone

by iambuckyrogers



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-24 00:54:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,157
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19713016
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iambuckyrogers/pseuds/iambuckyrogers
Summary: After a love confession gone wrong, Clint finds you alone on a bridge





	You're Not Alone

**Author's Note:**

> WARNINGS: self-loathing, suicide attempt, dark thoughts
> 
> ok so i wrote some of this during a spiral and felt like it needed to be finished, both for myself and others who may be feeling the same. It’s my first time writing Clint, I hope that I did him justice. Likes and reblogs are always appreciated!
> 
> Also: Please reach out if you need help, there really are people out there willing to listen and I’ll be that person for anyone who needs it :)

You’d really done it this time. There was no coming back from this. Why you had to open your big stupid mouth in the first place you didn’t understand. Everyone warned you against it, but never listened… Even when you really should have. And god, did you wish you listened this time. You peered over the edge of the bridge, into the dark abyss of the freezing Hudson below. Dark and unforgiving. You kicked off your shoes haphazardly, not caring where they ended up, you wouldn’t need them any longer. You struggled with your cardigan, tossing it aimlessly over the side of the bridge and watching as it fell, tumbling and turning until it landed with a faint splash in the water below. You blinked back tears as you ran over the last 30 minutes in your head.

The buzz of the shots had started to work its way through your body, liquid courage thrumming through your veins. With a newly found courage, you snatched up your phone and texted the person you were so painfully longing for. Pouring out your heart and soul into a text that you only hoped conveyed the way you were feeling. You threw all caution to the wind and hit send without even a second thought. Your heart was pounding in your ears as the three dots flickered and disappeared as they wrote their reply.

Crush: Are you drunk?

Y/N: No, never… ok maybe a little bit. but otherwise I’d be too pussy scared to tell you how I feel

Crush: Oh… Are you joking?

Y/N: What?? no I’m serious. please just let me like you

Crush: You don’t know me, you think you do but you’ve only seen the good bits

Y/N: Then let me see it all, I want to know you better if you’d just let me. please

Crush: You really don’t, trust me. I’m quite happy with things the way they are at the moment

Y/N: Yeah ok I get it just friends. I wish I never said anything and everything would be ok

Crush: I’m glad to hear it. It’s alright, what’s done is done. That’s what alcohol does. I’m fine, I’m just sorry to have disappointed you.

How could you have read the situation so wrong? You snatched your bag up off the table and hurried out of the bar muttering about how you had work early tomorrow and needed to get home. Your head was pounding as the realisation of what you had just done began to sink in. You hailed a cab, almost getting hit by it as it screeched to a stop at your feet. You ripped open the door and slid into the back seat.

“Where to?” the driver asked.

“George Washington Bridge.” You replied, sinking into the seat as the driver sped away.

Fresh tears welled behind your eyes as you hoisted yourself over the barrier. With your back to the railing and your arms hooked over the bars, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. No one would miss you anyway. Your family didn’t really care about you. You only had a handful of friends and you had no doubt that you were replaceable. What’s the point in hanging around when you just ruin everything you touch? This was just the last thing in a long line of monumental fuck ups. You felt a sense of peace as you leant forward, your arms extending as you dangled over the edge of oblivion. You opened your eyes and caught a glimpse of a man walking towards you, he seemed to slow when he saw where you were standing. Cautiously he continued to come closer, he was probably late 20’s, a well built, muscly guy dressed in dark leathery motorbike gear with his light brown hair styled carefully into a point.

“Hey, everything alright?” he asked softly, coming to a stop a couple metres, his stare laced with concern.

“Yes,” you sniffled defensively. You wanted to shout at him for what a stupid question that was to ask someone about to throw themselves off a bridge.

“Alright, mind if I join?” he asks gesturing to the gap between the two of you.

“Be my guest, it’s a free country last time I checked.” Swiftly he jumped the barrier and stood by next to you, his warm body pressed against your side. Your eyes widened as you looked to him.

“What are you doing?!” you asked, to which he just shrugged his shoulders.

“The name’s Clint by the way,” he said not tearing his eyes away from the water.

“Y/N,” you whisper, teeth chattering as the cold air whipped around you, the only warmth coming from the man, Clint, who still stood beside you.

“How many flips do you recon I could do before I hit the water?” he asked, looking at you with a serious expression, “ok sorry, bad time for a joke I know, but I’m not great at conflict resolution stuff.”

“Neither,” you responded, still looking out to the water.

“So what are you good at?”

“Ruining everything,” you choked out, fresh tears prickling behind your eyes.

“Hey, don’t be like that. There’s something special about you, I can feel it. I bet you dance a mean Macarena.” You laugh weakly turning to look at him.

“My mum always said that I made the best apple pie,” you offered, smiling as you remembered all the times you used to make them for her, how she’d make a huge fuss about how good they tasted.

“See there you go. I’d love to try one,” he smiled back, jumping up so he was sitting on the railing, “whaddya say we get out of here?”

“No,” you snapped, looking back out to the churning water below, “it’s not enough, I’m not enough.”

“You know, sweetheart, you’re not alone.” You looked up at him, blinking away tears, “You think you’re the only one who thinks they’re not enough?” He returned to his spot next to you on the outside of the railing, “you’re not alone in this fight, there are people out there who can help, who want to help. Please, let’s get off this bridge and take about it, somewhere preferably warm and with coffee. I want to help you, I’m here, all you’ve got to go is take my hand.” You looked between his hand and the water a couple of times. Looking into his eyes you saw such conviction behind them, you really believed that he could fix you.

“O-okay,” you whispered, gingerly removing your hand from the railing and taking his. In one swift movement, he jumped back over the barrier, pulling you with him and catching you in his arms, putting you down gently.

“Wow, you’re stronger than you look,” you laughed.

“Not as strong as you,” he said, pulling you into his side as he steered you off the bridge.


End file.
